


seventeen days

by Marcia Elena (marciaelena)



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Post-Episode: s05e22 Not Fade Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 16:23:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14453124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marciaelena/pseuds/Marcia%20Elena
Summary: Angel writes Connor a letter.





	seventeen days

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 10th Buffyverse Lyric Wheel, August 2005. Angst and silly humor abound.
> 
> Thank you to Princess Abby for the wonderful lyrics. The story's title is the same as the album the song is taken from.

_"I never thought I'd miss L.A._

_It's funny, isn't it? No other place anywhere has taken so much away from me. But every day I spend away from it I feel the pull to return. I know I'll end up going back. This trip's been a bad idea from the start; I don't know what made me think Wesley's father would want to see me. He actually threatened me when I called ahead to let him know I'd be showing up. When he hung up on me I sat staring at the phone in my hand, shocked that the man could say such terrible things about his own son even after he'd given his life fighting against evil. Almost as shocked that I'd picked one useful habit at Wolfram & Hart. Good thing, calling ahead. _

_I didn't show up, of course. I just didn't see the point. Wesley's dead and buried, and I can only hope he found some measure of peace at the end. Meeting with his parents wouldn't do anything for him, and it was obvious it wouldn't do anything for me. Except maybe get me deader._

_To be honest, I think at this point in the game oblivion would feel welcome, if it weren't for the fact that you're still there waiting for me. I don't know if you want to hear this, Connor, but you're the only thing still keeping me around. Forever's been looking like too much time after all, and I'm tired. I'm tired of the fight, tired of leading the people I love to their deaths. I'm terrified that that's what I'll end up doing to you, but I can be weak and selfish too, and I need you. I think maybe I've earned the right to be weak and selfish, even if I haven't earned forgiveness and peace. I'm probably never going to have either of those, and maybe I'm just fooling myself thinking that I can still have something good and actually manage to keep it, but I want to try. I know you have your family and a whole other life now, but I'd like to be a part of that life. I need you to let me love you, need you to let me look out for you, even if I know you can take care of yourself. I know it hasn't been that long since you changed your mind about wanting me to be around, and I don't want to make you feel pressured. I don't want to scare you away, but you've become my whole world, son. You've always been the most precious thing to me, the only one I'd do anything for, and now you're also the only one I have left. When it's all too much to bear all I have to do is think about you and things become bearable somehow._

_Okay, I admit it. I'm going to scare you one way or another with this letter; if by some miracle the blatant sentimentality doesn't do it, the flowery design on the stationery will. Even I think that's just a bit too much._

_Maybe I shouldn't send you this letter. There's so much left unsaid between us and I ache to say it all to you, but maybe it's better that way. Maybe I should just regard this as an exercise; I'm just writing for the sake of writing, to help keep my handwriting neat. Maybe-"_

"You know, you should really write a book."

"Connor, Jesus," Angel rasps, toppling his chair as he stands up, instantly trying to block the letter he's writing with his body. At least _some_ of his reflexes still work. "What- How long have you been here?" 

"Long enough. Startled you pretty bad, huh? Sorry about that." He gives Angel a lopsided grin. "Though it's not like I could give you a heart attack."

Maybe not, but Angel's heart definitely feels funny right now. "How-" He clears his throat, "how did you get here?"

Connor raises one eyebrow at him, as if it's obvious. "Flew. Over the ocean. On a plane?" He gestures with his hand. 

_Yeah, okay, so it_ is _obvious,_ Angel thinks.

"I knew you'd be doing this," Connor sighs as he goes on. "So I decided to come get you."

"You knew I'd be sitting here writing you a letter?" Angel feels stupid as soon as the words leave his mouth, as well he should. Extra points there for mentioning the very letter he's trying to hide from Connor. He hopes Connor won't ask to read it.

"No, I knew you'd be brooding and feeling guilty about stuff and making yourself miserable."

"Oh, uh, of course. I knew that's what you meant," Angel mumbles, sitting on the letter and trying not to notice when the pen rolls to the floor and the stationery crinkles noisily for a second under his backside. 

Connor raises an eyebrow at him again, a worried look on his face. "Dad, have you been drinking bad blood or something? You know they have a lot of that mad cow disease around these parts, right?" He shrugs off the backpack he's carrying and all but throws himself on the bed as he sits down, leaning back on his elbows as he looks up at Angel. "Anyway, I was serious about the book thing. Vampire with a soul, all that tragedy and woe, chicks would really dig that. And there's all the battles and stuff too, so, plenty of action for guys. I bet it'd be a best-seller. They might even end up making a movie out of it. Or hey, maybe even a TV show."

Angel blinks at him. 

"Man, you _really_ gotta learn to lighten up a little," Connor says, laughing. 

Angel tries to smile at him, but he's afraid it looks more like a grimace as he shifts and the letter flutters down to the carpet. In slow motion. At least that's how it feels to him as Connor's eyes follow the stationery down. 

He smiles at Angel when he raises his gaze back to his. "You can quit that, you know. I read it already. All of it," he tells Angel, sitting up straighter. "I don't feel pressured, so relax, okay? I mean, I did come here of my own free will. And you didn't hear me come in, I could've left just as quietly and you never would've known. But I stayed," he points out, and the look he gives Angel is so earnest it tugs at him. "I'm staying, Dad," he goes on in a firm tone. "With you. I'm leaving college."

That gets Angel's full attention. "Connor, you can't," he urges him, pushing away from the desk and sitting down next to Connor. 

"Yes I can. It's done." Connor shrugs, shifting on the bed to face Angel.

"Undo it, then. You're a good student, they might be willing to take you back. We can come up with a plausible reason for-" 

"No, Dad."

"But- what about your dreams, Connor? I don't want you to give them up for me."

"I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for my _self_." Connor jumps to his feet and paces in front of Angel for a minute as he speaks. "They were never my dreams, not really _my_ dreams," he argues. 

"But-"

"No, Dad," he says again, stopping in front of Angel, sitting down again and heaving a soft sigh. "I liked college well enough, but that's just not who I am. I'm- still trying to figure that out. Who I am, what I want," he whispers. "The only thing I know for now is that I'm your son. I _belong_ with you. I love my family and I don't know if I could ever tell them the whole truth, I don't wanna break their hearts. And I'm not planning on leaving them behind or anything so drastic, I'm just leaving college." He offers Angel a rueful smile. "It's not the end of the world."

Stubborn. _How did he get to be so hardheaded?_ "But- are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. Sun's still shining outside," Connor jokes. Angel thinks he must be looking extremely frustrated, because Connor hurries to add: "I'm sure, yeah. Sorry if I'm disappointing you, Dad. I can always go back to college later if I change my mind, but I don't think that's gonna happen. Everyone's just gonna have to deal with it." 

"All right," Angel gives in. For now. "Sounds- reasonable." 

Connor leans back on his elbows again and looks around the room, taking in the walls and the ceiling and the carpet, the shut window and curtains, the air conditioning, the door leading to the bathroom. His eyes linger on the still toppled chair, on the pen under the desk, the now slightly crumpled letter. He bites on the inside of his lip before bringing his eyes back to Angel's. "So how do you check into hotels? I've always wondered about that." 

It's Angel's turn to raise his eyebrows. Connor just smiles. 

"How _do_ you check in?" he asks again, lying back on the bed, arms under his head. "Do you have any ID? A passport? If not then how do you travel? Do you pay taxes? You don't really have a last name anymore, right? What about a credit card? Social security number? Fake birth certificate?" He frowns. "Do _I_ have a birth certificate? A real one, I mean. And why did you name me Connor? Did you ever give me a middle name too? And how does this vampire lineage thing work, anyway? Is Spike like my brother or my cousin twice removed or something? Oh, and why do so many vampire books spell "child" with an _e_ at the end? I don't get that." 

Angel would be feeling breathless for him, if it weren't for the fact that he's always breath-less. "Are you done?" Angel asks him, amused now. 

Connor gives him that little one-corner-of-the-mouth smile of his again. "No," he says. "I have a notebook." Before Angel can ask him what he means he sits up and digs in his backpack, pulling out a notebook and handing it to Angel. "Ever since I got my memories back, I've been writing down all the questions I wanna ask you. Even when I thought I didn't really wanna have anything to do with you anymore," he tells Angel softly. 

Angel flips through the notebook while Connor speaks, glancing at him as he quietly reads some of his questions. Pages and pages of them, some very basic ones, some funny and some embarrassing, and others so incredibly complicated or painful he wouldn't even know where to begin.

When Connor snatches the notebook from him Angel realizes the look on his face must be giving him away again. He's always been defenseless around Connor.

"There's no hurry," Connor says, putting the notebook away again. "I just-" he sighs, nudging his backpack with his sneakers. He looks at Angel and holds his gaze in silence for a long, charged moment. "I don't wanna leave anything unspoken between us anymore."

"Connor-"

"It's okay, Dad. Everything's okay," Connor reassures him, gently, as he moves closer. 

"Why are you here?" Angel whispers. There's that funny feeling in his heart again. And it's spreading.

"I was getting worried. You've been moping here for seventeen days already, that's way too long. I figured that if that was time enough for me to realize some things, it should be time enough for you too. So I came to take you back home with me. I told you already." 

"Seventeen days?" _Has it really been that long?_

"I've been counting," Connor smiles. "And getting only one letter and one phone call from you didn't exactly help in the worry department." He moves even closer, until he's practically sitting on Angel's lap. "Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. Spike left. He called me from the airport, said he was gonna win Buffy back and make things right this time. He asked me to tell you you should do the same thing." He pauses for a moment, frowning, before going on. "Not win Buffy back. The other part." 

"Make things right." 

"Yeah. With _me_ ," Connor clarifies. And before Angel has time to really decide what he thinks about Spike and Buffy he finds himself with a lapful of Connor. 

"Connor, what-"

Connor ignores him. Or not _quite_. "Sounds like you should get a notebook too," he whispers, lowering his gaze to Angel's mouth. 

And Connor leans in and kisses him. 

His lips feel so soft against Angel's. So warm. There's no hesitation at all in his kiss, and Angel has to fight the urge to crush him in his arms and keep him this close to him forever.

Angel sits still as stone as Connor licks his lips open and pushes breath and tongue into his mouth, but he doesn't pull back. He can't bring himself to do that either. 

"What are you doing?" Angel finally manages. _How can you taste so sweet, how can you feel so right?_

"Kissing you. Can't you tell?" Angel feels Connor's smile against his lips. "I can draw you a diagram if that's gonna help. You know, tab A, slot B?" he murmurs, illustrating his words in a perfect manner as he licks his way into Angel's mouth again.

Angel can't help it; he really does crush Connor to him this time. And when Connor releases a soft moan into his mouth he kisses Connor back hard, so full of need he scares himself. He can feel Connor trembling against him now, his heartbeat like a frantic fluttering of wings against his ribcage. 

"It's all right. I think I have a pretty good idea of what goes where," Angel informs him. "But I thought it was older _wo_ men you had a thing for?"

"Yeah." Connor shrugs. "Must've dropped a syllable somewhere."

And he laughs. Angel's never heard Connor laugh like this, and all he wants is to hear him do it again. He wants to _be_ the one to make him do it. But as he strokes Connor's face he's reminded of the tiny baby he held in his arms in a dark alley in the rain, and of the wild boy that faced him at the Hyperion's lobby for the first time, pointing a weapon at him. Staring into Connor's eyes he remembers the lost, confused look he saw in those eyes so many times, that mixture of fear and courage and anger that always cut Angel so deep. 

Angel couldn't keep him safe then, couldn't show him the way. He doesn't know if he can do it now.

"I know what you're thinking," Connor tells him, and Angel believes him. Connor strokes his face too, mirroring the tenderness in Angel's own touch. "I know you're scared, but we can be scared together. That's okay, isn't it? And we can figure things out together too. You said-" He sighs, leaning closer again, and Angel feels Connor's breath as a caress against his lips. "You said we could start over. So that's what we're gonna do. It's what we're doing, right now," Connor whispers as he kisses him. 

"I- this isn't- I'm your father, Connor, we shouldn't-" Angel kisses him again and again even as he tries to reason with him, with himself. Even as he tries not to think about the day he made him that offer. "We shouldn't," he rasps again, holding Connor tigther. "It's not-"

"Don't, Dad," Connor entreats. "It's not wrong. I _know_ what wrong feels like, and this isn't it."

So simple. Could it really be this simple? 

Connor pushes Angel back onto the bed, and Angel lets him. He kisses Angel deeply, unbuttoning his shirt, trailing his long fingers over cold skin, burning Angel everywhere he touches him. 

"You can't- maybe you didn't think about all the implications in this, Connor. I don't want you to regret this," Angel whispers, his hands splayed on Connor's back, under Connor's t-shirt. A last effort to keep his son from wandering too far down this road. 

"I thought about it, about all of it, all the reasons why we shouldn't, all the reasons why we _should_ ," Connor breathes, yanking his t-shirt off. "There _are_ reasons for both, yeah, so many reasons. But _this_ is what makes sense to me the most. And I don't care if no one's going to understand it, _we're_ the ones who need to understand it." Connor rolls them in bed, landing Angel on top of him. "I spent too much time letting other people tell me how to hate you. I'm not gonna let anyone tell me how to love you now." He takes Angel's hand and presses it to his chest, runs it over his skin. "Don't you feel it too? Please tell me you understand," he pleads. 

"I do. I understand," Angel tells him. Not because it's what Connor wants to hear; it's what he needs to say. What he thinks he's always needed to say. 

Connor lets go of his hand, shuddering visibly as Angel continues the caress he started. His eyes fall half shut, and Angel leans to capture Connor's lips with his, forcing his mouth open, kissing him with his very soul. Letting Connor _feel_ he feels it. 

"Daddy," he cries when Angel grinds their hips together, throwing his head back. And that's when Angel comes finally, completely undone. 

He undresses Connor, speaking to him with his eyes, with his hands, with his lips; there'll be time enough for words later.

Connor writhes on the bed, luminous skin against white sheets, red lips made redder by their kisses, blue eyes turned dark with arousal. He watches Angel as he takes his own clothes off, his breath loud in the small room, the pulsing of his blood reverberating in Angel's ears. Angel's own blood, alive and flowing in Connor's veins.

Angel hesitates briefly when he joins Connor in bed again, real fear stirring inside him now, not for Connor's soul this time but his own. But Connor smiles as he looks at him, and there's both solace and sadness in his eyes. "Don't worry, Dad, I know I shouldn't make you _perfectly_ happy. So I promise to keep making you miserable every once in a while," he whispers, taking the hurt out of his words with a kiss. 

It still stings. But it's sweet too, and as Angel cradles his grown son in his arms as carefully as he did his baby boy, he knows that's how it's always going to be for him, for them; the good and the bad mixed together so thoroughly they're never going to have one without the other. 

And it's fine. It's right. It's as it should be. 

No matter what comes, from this moment on forever lasts only as long as Connor lives.

**Author's Note:**

> Landing in London (3 Doors Down)
> 
> I woke up today in London  
> As the plane was touching down  
> And all I could think about was Monday  
> And maybe I'd be back around
> 
> If this keeps me away much longer  
> I don't know what I will do  
> You've got to understand it's a hard life  
> That I'm going through
> 
> And when the night falls in around me  
> I don't think I'll make it through  
> I'll use your light to guide the way  
> 'Cause all I think about is you
> 
> Well, L.A.'s getting kinda crazy  
> And New York's getting kinda cold  
> I keep my head from getting lazy  
> I just can't wait to get back home
> 
> And all these days I spend away  
> I'll make up for this I swear  
> I need your love to hold me up  
> When it's all too much to bear
> 
> And when the night falls in around me  
> And I don't think I'll make it through  
> I'll use your light to guide the way  
> 'Cause all I think about is you
> 
> And all these days I spend away  
> I'll make up for this I swear  
> I need your love to hold me up  
> When it's all too much to bear
> 
> And when the night falls in around me  
> And I don't think I'll make it through  
> I'll use your light to guide the way  
> 'Cause all I think about is you


End file.
